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End of Green Days
March 2, 2018
The desert sands do not move with the tides
The sun cannot set without falling low
New desolate nights cause the birds to hide
New world-turners begin to move it slow
"Now what can you do for me?" asked green trees
From where they stood, swaying all alone
"What have you done for us?" whimpered little leaves
"This is a behvaior we can't condone."
We are the end of the last green days
The living and the live begin to crash
Watching from the tips of the trees did they
Feel the soft warmth of the white falling ash
Their little voices fell with the last snow
It is time for a long nap and they know
© Emma C., Gardner, MA
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